


Chapter 2: 21-23

by Roga



Series: Three Tales of Documents found in Ancient Persia [1]
Category: Megilat Ester | Book of Esther, Tanakh
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Community: purimgifts, Dialogue-Only, Gen, Humor, Jewish Holidays, POV Outsider, Purim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-19
Updated: 2008-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 23:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/pseuds/Roga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esther, Chapter 2: 21-23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 2: 21-23

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shay (Shayheyred)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayheyred/gifts).



“All right, here we go: _Today, Mordechai the Jew_ —”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on.”

“What?”

“Mordechai ‘the Jew’?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Well, don’t you think it’s a little bit… you know. ”

“Accurate?”

“Insensitive.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“Not very PC.”

“Uh…”

“It’s kinda racist, man.”

“But. He’s Jewish. “

“Yeah, but he’s not _just_ Jewish, is he? He’s a multidimensional human being. He has feelings. He has hobbies. He has dreams, hopes, and aspirations. And as historians chronicling the tale of this brave man saving the King’s life, I think it’s our duty to give fair, unbiased representations of all the major characters in this affair. Why not Mordechai the Gray-haired? Mordechai the Staff Wielder? Mordechai the Righteous?”

“I don’t know what high mules you’ve been riding, but we’re not historians, we’re just two guys who had their balls cut off, and now we’re assigned to write in King’s diary every day. Oh, and also, the fucking guy’s Jewish. ”

“Fine. Have it your way. ”

“Okay. So, _Today, Mordechai the Jew—_ ”

“Wait wait wait, wait, wait.”

“What now?”

“‘Today’?”

“What’s wrong with ‘today’?”

“Don’t you think we should be more specific? We can’t just say ‘today’. Future generations, they’re going to need something a bit more concrete than ‘today’ to be able to place us in history. Think of the _children._ “

“I hope you’re not talking about yours.”

“You can cut it out with the castration jokes, they went out of fashion years ago.”

“I can’t cut it out, because they already— ”

“Okay, fine, I walked right into that one. You can shut up now.”

“Great, so let’s move on to: _Today—_ ”

“Nuh-uh-uh! “

“Oh, fine. _On the second day of the third month_ —better?”

“Better, but it’s… not quite _there_ yet. We should add the year.”

“ _And on the second day of the third month of the fourth year of King Ahasueros’ reign_ , how’s that?”

“Better make it Xerxes, we don’t want it to be confusing.”

“Ahuramazda forbid.”

“And ‘the fourth year’, well, hardly a marker in time, is it?”

“Well, what would you _like_? 482 BC?”

“’482 BC’? What does that mean?”

“It means four hundred and eighty two Baby Camels are _crying in their sleep_ because you won’t stop harping on the fucking date. I’m moving on.”

“Hey, man, chill. I’m only trying to be precise. These are the Chronicles of Persia, after all.”

“Whatever. _And on the second day of the third month of the fourth year of King Ahasueros’ reign, Mordechai the Jew, former guardian of Queen Esther Who Was Not a Jew, sat by the gates of the palace and—_ ”

“Say.”

“Oh, god, what now?”

“How come Mordechai’s a Jew and Esther, his ward, his best bud, is not?”

“How would I know?”

“Maybe she’s adopted. Maybe Mordechai found her when she was a little girl, wandering in a dirty alley, and offered her food and shelter and raised her as if she were his own, and her being queen now is just like a fairy tale come true.”

“…okay.”

“Ooh! Maybe there was a magic stork!—”

“Oh, for the love of Cyrus’ one-legged nephew, will you _ever_ shut up?”

“I’m a writer, so that’s a no. But I hear your point. Let’s continue.”

“Let’s. Okay, so blah blah Jew, yadda yadda gates, aha, yes: _and on that day Mordechai just happened to overhear Bigthan and Teresh conspire against—_ ”

“Ahem, sorry to interrupt again.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“‘Bigthan and Teresh, _Eunuchs_ ’, it should be, I think.”

“Let me get this straight: ‘Jewish’ is racist, but ‘eunuchs’ is a good epithet? But what if these guys have _hobbies_ , I believe you said? What if they like… bird watching?”

“Don’t go mixing up religion and ethnicity with jobs, now. All those filthy traitors had to do in life was wave some peacock-feather-fans and remain loyal to the king. Which they did not, those rotten quasi-men. If we emphasize how close they were to the king it will reinforce their betrayal in the reader’s eyes, those dirty fiends, those emasculated swines.”

“Wow, someone has a self hatred complex.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I only hate Teresh because he broke up with me last year and I did not mean to say that out loud he was a greedy selfish jerk as evidenced by his plot against the king, why am I still talking?”

“Question I’ve been asking myself all day. Barring any more interruptions, if I may just get this over with: _...to overhear Bigthan and Teresh, eunuchs galore, conspire against the king. And Mordechai went to Esther, who was rather awesome, and she delivered the news to her husband Aha—Xerxes, and once the matter was investigated, both Bigthan and Teresh were hung from a tree, may-they-never-rest, and lo it was written in the Book of Chronicles of Persia. Good night, and good luck._ There, how’s that?”

“Not bad, actually. I think you nailed it.”

“Can’t actually _nail_ anythi—”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s just _too_ easy.”

“Well, all we have to add now is an illustration. You know how the king loves those. He’s like a child.”

“I drew up something earlier, figured it might fit.”

“Excellent! Let me see?”

“Here it is.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? That’s all you have to say?”

“No, it’s lovely. It’s just that something’s…”

“Let me guess, something’s a little bit ‘ _off_ ’? You know what, you can _bite_ my nonexistent—”

“No, hey, look! I know just what it is. We only need to make one small change.”

“What?”

“We need to resize it. Here…”

“What? What are you _doing_ to my picture? Stop mutilating it—!”

“There! See? Now it’s exactly one hundred dots long and one hundred dots wide. Perfect symmetry, the king will love it, the proportions are fabulous, and of course, it fits the page.”

“ _…And on the second day of the third month, the king’s chronologist killed his partner with a sharp duck quill._ ”

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Art is from Lotte Reiniger's [The Adventures of Prince Achmed](http://www.amazon.com/Adventures-Prince-Achmed-Carl-Koch/dp/B0000714B2/sr=8-1/qid=1168733329?ie=UTF8&s=dvd), 1926, taken from animationarchive.org.


End file.
